


Open Hand

by McKay



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-06
Updated: 2010-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:17:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war, Severus must decide whether or not he wants to pick up where he left off with Remus, and Remus helps him make up his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lore in HP Yule Balls 2009. Not canon compliant in that Snape and Lupin survive the war and Teddy isn't Remus' biological child, mutual masturbation, use of Legilimency during sex, desperation, established relationship

_The single clenched fist lifted and ready,  Or the open hand held out and waiting.  Choose:  For we meet by one or the other. – Carl Sandburg_

When Severus opened his eyes, he was surprised by two things. First, that he had woken up at all, and second, that he wasn't alone.

He hadn't expected to survive the war, although he'd rather hoped his end would come in the form of a glorious showdown. He had imagined himself finally revealing his true allegiance and making a final stand against a group of Death Eaters, managing to take out most of them before they felled him in a magnificent blaze of green light. He wanted the sort of death that they wrote about in history books, and bleeding to death on the floor of the Shrieking Shack was far more ignominious than he'd hoped for.

He'd known he was a goner the minute that bloody great snake fastened onto his throat. He'd taken antivenin, of course. After Arthur Weasley's encounter with the creature, he'd developed an antidote, and he'd continued brewing it and passing it along to the rest of the Order via McGonagall even after his supposed betrayal. But antivenin couldn't help with having his throat torn open, and as he slipped into unconsciousness, he'd resigned himself to being a footnote rather than a chapter in the history books about the war.

Instead, here he was, alive if not entirely well judging by the pain in his throat, and moreover, he wasn't alone.

Remus sat by Severus' bedside, glasses perched on his nose as he read the newspaper. Severus could see the headline blaring, "Boy-Who-Lived to Accept Ministry Honor Today", and he grimaced. The one good thing he could think of about dying was that he wouldn't have been subjected to more Boy-Who-Lived nonsense, since Potter had apparently survived and wouldn't have been around to plague Severus' afterlife as well.

He tried to speak, but nothing came out, which alarmed him; he tried to sit up, but he was too weak to manage it. The movement got Remus' attention, however, and Remus immediately put the paper aside and clasped Severus' hand in a firm, reassuring grip.

"You're awake," Remus said, his voice suffused with relief as he stated the bloody obvious. That, more than anything else, convinced Severus that he was indeed alive, not in some bizarre form of afterlife. "Welcome back. Don't try to talk, all right? Your throat is in bad shape, and the Healers don't want to risk more damage to your vocal cords. Are you in any pain?"

Severus nodded and lifted his free hand slowly to touch his throat.

"I'll have them bring a pain potion," Remus said, rising to his feet, but Severus clutched Remus' hand tighter and shook his head. "You don't want it right now?"

Severus shook his head again and tugged Remus' hand. The pain was bearable; he'd had worse over the years, and right now, he wanted company, someone to catch him up on what had happened and to reassure him that he would be all right. He wasn't sure how to express what he wanted with his limited means of communication, but he pointed to the newspaper in hopes that would give Remus a clue.

"You want all the news, I take it," Remus said, showing unusual astuteness for a Gryffindor, and Severus nodded in satisfaction. "Well, we won," Remus assured him, although he'd assumed as much, given the headlines. "Harry is fine, and we needn't worry about Voldemort returning again."

Severus breathed a deep sigh of relief at that; he was more than ready for his duties to be over at last. Now that both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord were gone, perhaps he could have some peace.

"We had some losses," Remus continued in a softer voice, "but it could have been far worse. Draco is all right, if you were wondering. I believe he and his parents all came out of the fray unscathed, although you and I both almost landed on the list of the deceased."

Severus shot him an alarmed look, but Remus squeezed his hand gently.

"I'm fine," he said. "I caught the edge of the Killing Curse aimed at Tonks, but luckily for me, I wasn't directly hit, and werewolves are harder to kill than the average human. I was comatose for a couple of days, and I get tired a little more easily than I'd like, but the Healers say I should be right as rain soon."

Severus gave a brief, slight nod, being careful how he moved his head so as not to re-open the wounds on his throat, although he eyed Remus dubiously; Remus appeared to be fine, although there were dark circles under his eyes and fatigue evident in the lines of his face, but there were things like internal injuries and curse damage to consider. If he'd felt stronger, he would have been tempted to examine Remus himself just to make certain the Healers hadn't missed anything important.

"Tonks' funeral was yesterday," Remus continued. "I gave the eulogy, although it was rather awkward." He turned his gaze toward the floor, stroking the back of Severus' hand absently with his thumb. "I felt like a fraud. Everyone except Andromeda expected me to be a grieving widower, when really I lost a dear friend, not the love of my life. At least Andromeda knows the truth, so I don't have to pretend with her."

Severus nodded again, although he didn't bother hiding his disgruntlement. He'd never liked the situation. In fact, he'd been livid when Remus first told him about the arrangement. It didn't help that his nerves had been frayed to the snapping point at the time. No matter how many times he told himself he'd only done what he had been ordered to do by Dumbledore himself and that killing Dumbledore had been, in essence, a mercy killing, Severus still felt the burden of bloodshed and guilt, and he'd been caught between a faction honoring him and a faction vilifying him for the act.

Angry and isolated, he'd been fractious to begin with, and the last thing he'd wanted to hear was that Remus was going to be married. Remus had explained that Tonks was pregnant by a fellow Auror who had been killed by Death Eaters, and she didn't want her baby to be illegitimate. She'd asked Remus to take on legal responsibility for the child, even knowing he was gay, and they had concocted a whirlwind romance to explain their hasty marriage and her pregnancy.

"She needs me," Remus had said, "and you and I won't be able to make our relationship public until after the war anyway."

But to Severus, even a marriage in name only was still a marriage, and it had led to a serious row that had strained their relationship to the breaking point.

"You're trying to be normal again!" Severus had shouted. "You're trying to ingratiate yourself and make everyone like you by doing what they want you to do instead of standing up for what _you_ want. I don't believe you'll ever come out of the closet about us, because too many people would disapprove of us – of _me_."

Remus had shut down and refused to talk about it any longer, and things were never quite the same after that. They had made two or three efforts to meet shortly after the sham wedding, but Remus was too bloody noble to commit adultery, and Severus' pride was still deeply stung; it became easier to use his various obligations as an excuse to avoid another tense and uncomfortable meeting, and eventually, Remus had stopped asking.

Severus wasn't certain things _could_ be the same again, even though the war was over and Remus was single once more. The fact that Remus was here with him seemed to be a positive sign, but Severus had no intention of assuming Remus was interested in picking up where they had left off, not when he might make a colossal fool of himself in doing so.

"Andromeda and I are going to share custody of Teddy," Remus said, looking up again, his brown eyes intent on Severus' face as if he was searching for something. "We'll tell him the truth when he's older, but for now, I'm the only father he knows, and I do love him, even though he isn't mine."

Severus gazed back at him, uncertain how to respond. What he wanted to do was unleash a flood of questions, but that was impossible for reasons even beyond his damaged throat. Instead, he simply nodded, careful to keep his expression neutral, and after a moment, Remus released his hand and sat back.

"At any rate, I saved some articles from the newspaper for you," Remus continued. "They're a bit purple and probably too laudatory of Harry for your taste, but they'll give you an idea of what you missed. You're being hailed as a hero, so you needn't worry that Aurors are going to burst through the door at any moment."

That _was_ a relief, and Severus felt a tight knot of worry inside him loosen at last. He didn't care about being honored or receiving shiny bits of medal; he only cared about the truth being known at last.

"Actually, the media are portraying you as a redeemed anti-hero," Remus said, amusement lacing his voice. "A wizarding version of Heathcliff, if you will."

Severus rolled his eyes at that and gave an annoyed huff.

"Well, you _are_ tall, dark, and broody," Remus pointed out. "I dare say you'll have women flinging their knickers at you after this, eager to help you forget the lingering memory of your doomed and tragic love for Lily."

Remus was giving him a pointed look, and Severus tried not to appear sheepish as he glanced away and picked idly at the bed sheets, grateful he couldn't talk at the moment.

"Admit it: you were trying to rattle Harry even in your almost-dying moments."

Severus grimaced and nodded, silently damning Remus for knowing him too well. But the remark reminded him of something he wanted to know, and he gestured to his throat and then to the room, trying to convey that he wanted to know how he'd been found before he bled to death.

"How did you get here?" Remus asked, and Severus nodded again. "Minerva had a house-elf follow you. She was worried about what might happen if you were summoned, and she thought you might need reinforcements before it was all over. As it happens, she was right."

_Yes, she was, the meddling old biddy_, Severus thought, although without vitriol. He sagged against the thin hospital pillow, his eyelids drooping even though he was fighting the weariness threatening to claim him; he'd just woken up, and he didn't want to go back to sleep again so soon, but his body was demanding it.

"You look tired." Remus sifted his fingers through Severus' hair gently. "Rest, Severus. There will be plenty of time to catch up later."

The touch of Remus' hand was familiar and soothing, and Severus closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep at last.

When he awoke again, he felt better, and his throat didn't hurt quite so much. He looked around, hoping to see Remus again, but his room was empty; there wasn't even another patient in the second bed. Disappointed, he sat up, stuffed the pillow behind his back for support, and reached for the stack of newspaper articles on the bedside table. As Remus had predicted, he found all the gushing over the bloody Boy-Who-Lived nauseating, but the mentions of his own heroism almost made up for having to wade through such overblown praise.

He'd almost finished the stack when a Healer bustled in, smiling at him as she drew her wand.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Snape," she greeted him cheerfully, and he stared stonily at her in response, which didn't seem to faze her. "Let's have a look and see how we're doing today, shall we?"

If he'd been able to speak, he would have said something scathing about how he was the one who'd nearly had his throat torn out by a snake, not her, so there was no 'we' about this situation, but he couldn't, and so he lay there, silent and grim, while she performed her diagnostic spells.

"I'm quite pleased by your progress," she said at last. "The antivenin you developed spared us from wrestling with some rather nasty side-effects from that awful creature's venom. I still remember what a time we had with poor Mr. Weasley." She tutted softly, her lips pursed in a disapproving moue. "But your wounds are closing and healing nicely, although I can't yet tell when or if you'll be able to speak. I recommend not trying to talk for now to give your throat a chance to heal fully, and then we'll see where we are." She tucked her wand away and patted his arm in a matronly manner. "All you need now is to rest and keep your throat medicated and bandaged. We could release you, if you've got someone to fetch and carry for you at home."

Severus thought about the empty rooms at Spinners End; he didn't have anyone to take care of him, and he wasn't sure there _was_ anyone who would be willing to take on such a task. He was about to shake his head, resigned to more time in this wretched hospital bed, when a new voice entered the conversation.

"He does." Remus stepped into the room and moved to stand at the foot of Severus' bed. "I'll take care of him."

Severus stared at him in startled befuddlement, wanting to say _You will?_, but Remus was focused on the Healer, who was beaming.

"Excellent! Come with me, then, and I'll give you a list of instructions and a supply of salve for his throat, and then we'll begin the discharge process."

The two walked away together, leaving Severus alone and bewildered. Did this mean Remus still cared or was he simply doing a good deed – or worse, acting out of a sense of obligation?

Less than an hour later, he was home, free of St. Mungo's, but with no more answers than he'd had before. As soon as he stepped onto the hearth, Remus slid one arm around his waist.

"You've gone pale," Remus said, peering at him with visible concern. "You need to rest. Let's go upstairs, and I'll help you get settled in bed."

Severus shook his head firmly and pointed to the sofa. He'd had enough of beds for the time being; he did feel weak and shaky, but he wanted to lie down where he wasn't off by himself.

"All right, then." Remus led him over to the sofa, and he sank down wearily and leaned back against the cushions, sighing quietly.

It was good to be in familiar surroundings, and as he looked around, he realized that yes, the war really was over, he wasn't dead, and he didn't face spending the rest of his life in Azkaban. Maybe he and Remus wouldn't be able to sort things out, but his situation could be a great deal worse, all things considered.

Drawing his wand, Remus enlarged one of the throw pillows and transfigured it into a soft, plump down pillow. "There, you can take a nice nap on that," he said, sounding pleased with his handiwork. "Would you like a blanket as well?"

Severus shook his head and pointed to the fireplace; a fire would warm the room enough that he wouldn't need a blanket.

"All right, I'll start a fire," Remus said as he moved toward the fireplace. "Then you should take a nap, and I'll make some potato soup for supper."

Severus bent to take off his shoes, and then he stretched out on the sofa, settling comfortably against the pillow; he could feel his eyelids drooping, but he watched Remus as long as he could, enjoying the sight. He'd hated having Pettigrew under his roof, but he thought he could grow accustomed to seeing Remus putter around the house. _If_ Remus wasn't attending to him out of duty, that was.

He drifted off before he could dwell overly long on that depressing line of thought, and when he woke up, the afternoon light was fading, and the scent of potato soup wafted to him, making his stomach growl.

As tempted as he was to get up and go into the kitchen, he was aware of his physical limitations, galling though they were. But it appeared that while Severus was asleep, Remus had pushed the ottoman closer to the sofa and left a stack of books on it, and so Severus sat up, propped his feet on the ottoman, and reached for the book on the top of the pile. It was a text on Native American shape-shifting magic which Severus assumed belonged to Remus, but whether Remus had left it there for himself or because he thought Severus might find it of interest, he didn't know and didn't care. The material was fascinating, and he engrossed himself in the book until Remus entered the room, bearing a tray.

"I brought you some soup and some tea with plenty of honey," Remus said, wordlessly moving a low table closer to the sofa and setting down the tray. "Nothing that will strain your throat. The potatoes are nice and mushy."

Severus glanced up and nodded, and then he held up the book, giving Remus a questioning look.

"It's mine," Remus affirmed. "I thought you'd probably read everything in your own library at least twice, so I brought a few books I thought you might not have already read."

Severus made a disgruntled noise at Remus' observation, which was correct, and he put the book aside in favor of the food. Remus sat down on the sofa beside him as he began to eat, although not _too_ close, Severus noted.

"I spoke with Kingsley," Remus said conversationally. "I'd asked him about your wand, since the Healer said it wasn't on you when you were brought in. He did some investigating and found out it had been broken by an overly-enthusiastic Auror before Harry had a chance to tell anyone the truth. We'll – you'll – have to buy a new one when you're up to it. Ollivander has opened his shop again, which is good. There's a wand shop in Paris, of course, but that's a bit far for a convalescent to travel, and buying a wand isn't something anyone can do for you."

Severus stared at him, surprised to hear _Remus_ of all people, rambling, and Remus broke off and rubbed his forehead, a rueful smile tugging his lips.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to babble like that, but there's such a large elephant in the room, and I'm not sure how to deal with it or if we _should_ deal with it until you're better."

Severus knew quite well that he wasn't the most emotionally astute man, but even he didn't need to ask what the elephant in question was. It was more difficult to focus intently enough for wordless and wandless magic in his weakened state, but he attempted it nonetheless, raising his hand and writing in the air: _I don't suppose you mean the fact I can fly._

Remus laughed softly and shook his head. "No, although I was rather surprised about that." He paused, his expression turning somber. "Look, I don't want to exhaust you, so if you don't want to talk now… For that matter, if you'd rather not talk about it at all, then we won't."

_We can talk_, Severus wrote, and Remus gazed at him with what seemed like relief.

"I know I upset you when I married Tonks," Remus said, still regarding Severus somberly. "I'm sorry for that, although I have to say I don't consider it a mistake. I was the only man she knew who could step into the role without things getting complicated. The last thing she needed was her husband of convenience falling in love with her or trying to convince her to make the marriage a real one when she was in mourning. She knew I was involved with someone, although she never knew it was with you, and we'd agreed to divorce when the war was over. All she wanted was a father for Teddy; she never wanted _me_."

_Doesn't matter_, Severus replied. _You made a life-changing decision without consulting me and without caring what I thought about it. You did it once. You might do it again._

"_No_, absolutely not," Remus said, punctuating his words with a firm shake of his head. "I did make a big decision without considering you, and I'm sorry for that. I wasn't accustomed to thinking of 'us' rather than 'me' at that point, which is no excuse, I know, but given the nature of our relationship at the time, you can see why it was difficult."

Severus nodded grudgingly. They had both been more focused on their respective work for the Order than on each other or on solidifying their relationship, which had been kept clandestine for almost two years. They had agreed to take their relationship public after the war, assuming they both survived, but the limited amount of time they'd had for each other had meant making the relationship a priority difficult at best.

"I regret upsetting you," Remus added, reaching out to touch Severus' shoulder lightly. "But I don't regret gaining a son."

_Where does that leave me?_ Severus asked, wondering if his place in Remus' life had been usurped by someone who leaked and couldn't yet sleep through the night. If there was one thing he had in common with the child, however, it was that neither of them could speak properly at present.

"Where do you want to be?" Remus gazed at him steadily, seeming to watch and wait for Severus' response, and Severus turned his gaze downward, lost in thought.

It wasn't safe to admit that where he wanted to be – what he truly wanted – was with Remus again, not after the way they had left things. But what if he rebuffed Remus, and that was the end of everything between them? If he said no now, there was no guarantee that Remus would keep coming 'round, and as reluctant as he was to be honest about what he wanted, he was even more reluctant to risk pushing Remus away altogether.

Finally, with the feeling of being on the verge of tumbling over a cliff, he scooted over so that his hip nudged against Remus', hoping that would be enough of a hint, even for a Gryffindor.

Apparently, it was, because Remus smiled warmly and slid his arm around Severus' waist, and Severus didn't protest the intimacy; on the contrary, it felt familiar and comforting, and it took all his will power not to nestle closer as he once would have done.

"I'm glad you're all right," Remus murmured, leaning close and nuzzling Severus' cheek with gentle affection. "I've missed you, you know."

Severus gave a terse nod in response, letting Remus figure out whether he meant it as an agreement or a simple acknowledgment.

"You needed me before, and I wasn't there, but this time, I will be." Remus drew back and regarded him solemnly. "I promise."

Hearing Remus acknowledge that he'd left Severus to cope with the aftermath of Dumbledore's death alone did more to soothe the old wounds than Severus expected, and he released a long, slow breath, old tension stored in the lines of his body easing at last.

Lifting his free hand, Remus cupped Severus' cheek in his palm and stroked it gently with his thumb. "Things will be different this time," he said softly. "The war is over, and there isn't any reason for us to hide."

Severus gazed into Remus' eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or duplicity – any excuse that would allow him to retreat from renewed intimacy and remain safe – but there was none, and when he pushed just a little, he saw that Remus meant what he said. Thus when Remus leaned closer and brushed his lips against Severus', Severus let him, feeling his own chest hitching at the familiar warmth of Remus' lips and the familiar wild, piney scent that clung to Remus' clothes and hair, a scent which reminded Severus of wolfsbane.

Remus tightened his fingers fractionally on Severus' cheek, and Severus could hear the acceleration of Remus' breathing, which would have given him smug satisfaction if he hadn't been breathing harder himself as well. As it was, that light, brief kiss made him want to fall back on the cushions and drag Remus down on top of him, but he knew it was too soon for that in many ways. He drew back, albeit reluctantly, and was pleased to see the flush in Remus' cheeks, his fair skin giving him away as usual.

"You should eat your soup before it gets too cold," Remus said, his voice husky, and he cleared his throat. "I can reheat it, if it's already cold."

Severus thought soup wasn't the only thing Remus was capable of reheating, but he said nothing and turned his attention back to the soup instead.

In the days that followed, Severus regained his strength and vitality, if not his voice. The Healer was cautious about letting him speak until she was more certain that his throat was completely healed and rested, and since Severus didn't want to spend the rest of his life in silence, he followed her instructions to the letter.

Life was far different for him now; although there were still some people who regarded him with suspicion, most seemed content to take Potter's word for it that Severus had been working against the Dark Lord all along. Remus derived amusement from reading aloud selections from _Witch Weekly_ that described Severus as a misunderstood hero and a reformed 'bad boy', which Severus countered by showing Remus some of the fan mail he received containing proposals of various types. Remus seemed amused by those as well, remarking that if all those eager women knew what living with Severus was _really_ like, they wouldn't be so eager to turn him into their personal woobie.

At first, they sustained the illusion that Remus hadn't really moved in by mutual consent; his clothes began appearing in the dresser and wardrobe a few at a time, and his toiletries accumulated slowly in the bathroom. Books that didn't belong to Severus began appearing on the shelves, and the nights that Remus returned to his flat rather than sleeping in the guest room became fewer and farther between until after about three weeks, Remus had fully integrated into the household, sealing the deal by adding his cookware and dinnerware to Severus' meager collection. When Severus saw Remus' favorite mug (round-bellied and brightly colored in greens and blues) sitting beside his own preferred mug (bog-standard, unadorned brown) on the kitchen windowsill, he knew they were cohabitating.

Surprisingly, he didn't mind. He thought they rubbed along together fairly well for two war-weary men with little experience with real relationships. Remus learned not to say anything that required an actual response before Severus had his first cup of tea, and Severus learned not to squeeze the toothpaste in the middle but rather roll it from the end. Remus had a tendency to leave books and teacups in places where they ought not be, which drove Severus mad, and Severus had a tendency to be moody, which tested the limits of Remus' patience, but they knew how to give each other space, and Severus thought the evenings spent reading or playing cards or chess together made up for the occasional obstacle.

Remus didn't push for increased intimacy, seeming content to let Severus dictate the pace. At first, Severus was too easily weakened and fatigued to consider initiating anything, but once he began feeling stronger, his mind and his libido began contemplating the idea of inviting Remus back into his bed.

In the end, there was no grand gesture or elaborate seduction that propelled him into Remus' arms. One night, when Remus kissed him lightly and turned to go to the guest bedroom, Severus caught his hand and tugged, and Remus followed him into his bedroom, simple as that.

Remus' body was different from how Severus remembered it, more scarred and less scrawny. The gaunt, underfed look was gone, and he was now as solid and filled-out as a man his age ought to be. Marriage had done Remus good in that respect, Severus thought, albeit grudgingly.

He slid his flattened palms along Remus' naked torso, secure in the knowledge that Tonks had never touched Remus like this. Like him, Remus had never been sexually attracted to women, but he still felt pangs of jealousy and possessiveness over the year that Tonks had spent with Remus. He wanted Remus back – all of him, mind and heart as well as body – and he wanted to establish his place in such a way that Remus could neither deny nor ignore it, much less put him aside for some so-called greater good again.

Gripping Remus' shoulders, he stared into Remus' eyes and gave a firm push; Remus' eyes widened, as if he felt Severus slipping into his mind, but before he could protest, Severus drew Remus out, establishing a connection between his mind and Remus', an easy enough matter considering Remus had no mental shields to speak of.

_Can you hear me?_ he thought, immediately pushing the thought into Remus' mind, and Remus gasped and nodded.

"Is this what you want?" Remus asked, cupping Severus' cheek in the palm of his hand. "The connection… the intimacy… I didn't think you-"

_What I want is the last year back,_ Severus interrupted tartly, although he allowed himself the luxury of leaning into the touch. He refused to admit that yes, he _did_ want the intimacy that this kind of connection offered. He needed it after having to give up Remus for someone else's sake; he needed to share a union with Remus that she hadn't. _But this will do._

Remus opened his mouth as if to speak again, but Severus was weary of talking. He pulled up a memory of one of the last times they had been together, and he flooded Remus' mind with images of their love-making. He could feel Remus' body tighten in the here and now even as he remembered Remus rolling him onto his back, pushing his legs apart, and thrusting deep, rocking with a slow and easy rhythm until Severus' toes were curling and he was writhing with helpless need.

As Severus had hoped, Remus seemed to lose all interest in talking, and he growled as he clamped his hand on the back of Severus' head to haul him into a demanding kiss. Severus moaned and parted his lips, willing to let Remus claim and plunder, and he continued to let memories flow from his mind to Remus', trying to stoke Remus' desire as high and as hot as he could.

Moans turned into gasps as Remus curled his fingers around Severus' cock and began stroking him with firm assurance, and a shudder wracked Severus from head to toe, not only from the pleasure of Remus' touch, but also at the evidence that Remus remembered _how_ to touch him in the ways he liked best. But he remembered too, and he didn't hesitate to wrap his fingers around Remus' thick cock in return, satisfied by the low moan he wrung from Remus' throat as he stroked from base to tip and back again.

The kiss grew hotter, wetter, and messier as arousal flared and inhibitions melted away. Severus could feel Remus surrendering to the moment and to Severus' presence within his mind, and that let Severus relax and let go as well, until he forgot about shielding – and about censoring what slipped through.

Instead of just memories, the emotions attached to them tumbled across the connection as well, and by the time Severus realized he was letting Remus feel the desire, the satisfaction, and the emotional fulfillment, it was too late. Remus was clinging to him, devouring him with the desperation of a starving man, and Severus knew that Remus had seen and understood what Severus had never been able to say aloud.

Somewhere in the midst of their heated groping, Remus had cast a charm, because Severus felt Remus' lube-slick fingers circling and teasing him, and then Remus eased one finger past the tight muscle, stroking his prostate, and Severus sucked in a hissing breath, his body growing taut and flushing as his cock grew impossibly harder at the stimulation.

He felt as if he was caught up in a never-ended loop of pleasure, now and remembered, one that intensified with each reverberation between himself and Remus until he couldn't think, could only feel, could only groan and thrust mindlessly into Remus' fist, wanting, _needing_, seeking more and more of Remus' skin and mouth and cock until his entire body shuddered and jerked with the overwhelming intensity of his release, and he unleashed a howl of ecstasy as he came. Remus' howl echoed his, wilder and more animalistic as Remus bucked up against Severus' hand, his hot seed spattering Severus' fingers. Only when the last rippling shudders abated did Severus release him, and Severus lifted his hand to lick away the thick fluid as Remus watched, his brown eyes slumberous and glowing with a feral light.

It felt almost like a loss when Severus drew back mentally and broke the connection between them; he had the disorienting sensation of being muffled by cotton before he oriented himself to being alone inside his own head again. Remus made a soft noise, perhaps of loss or perhaps of protest, and he wound his arms around Severus and buried his nose against Severus' throat, nuzzling the scars tenderly.

"Thank you," he said, and he drew in a deep, shuddery breath. "I'm sorry. If I'd known…" He shook his head. "I'm an idiot."

Severus nodded. If Remus expected disagreement on that point, he was doomed to disappointment.

"I'll make it up to you, I swear," Remus said as he released Severus just enough to let him summon his wand and cast a cleaning charm on them both. "Whatever it takes, I'll do it."

Severus lifted his hand and languidly sketched a reply: _More of this_.

Laughing, Remus pulled him down and gathered him close, tangling their limbs. "You'll have it. Any time you like."

_Any time you aren't taking care of your son,_ Severus reminded him, although he didn't hesitate to nestle closer to Remus.

"I do have an additional responsibility now," Remus acknowledged with a nod. "Is that a deal-breaker?"

Severus didn't need to use Legilimency to pick up on the concern underlying Remus' question, and he gave serious consideration to the answer. He had never considered being a parent, not even a part-time parent, and the child didn't even have the advantage of being part of Remus. Still, Remus had said he shared custody, which meant Severus would still have Remus all to himself at times, and he was hardly a stranger to making sacrifices.

At last, he shook his head, and Remus sagged in relief and held him even tighter.

"Thank you," Remus said again, murmuring the words against Severus' skin. He fell silent, smoothing his hands up and down the length of Severus' back, lulling Severus into a state of mindless relaxation. By the time Remus added, "I love you too," Severus had sunk deeply enough that he could pretend he hadn't heard so he didn't have to acknowledge the utter soppiness, but he allowed himself the luxury of a small, pleased smile before letting himself drift off to sleep at last.


End file.
